


The one where Sam uses his brain

by quiettewandering



Series: The many universes in which i love you [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Jealous Castiel, M/M, Possessive Castiel, Smart Sam Winchester, stupid dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 13:39:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7224610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiettewandering/pseuds/quiettewandering
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is the smart brother. Obviously. So he'll be the one to break the sexual tension and shove his brother and his angel together. Obviously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The one where Sam uses his brain

**Author's Note:**

> A drabble written from the prompt @destielonfire gave me for a possessive/jealous!cas (go check out her blog it's awesome). 
> 
>  
> 
> ~~It's super silly so don't take anything seriously in fact never take me seriously~~

Nobody tells Sam anything, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t see it.

Each time they go to a dive-bar after the hunt, he sees Cas clenching his drink so tightly it looks like it’ll shatter, the muscles in his jaw twitching, as he stares at Dean and a pretty, leggy blonde in a dark corner. He notes the fact that he’s caught Cas more than once attempting to erase every girl’s number that Dean accumulates from his bar runs. He saw a week ago Cas blushing and scurrying out of the kitchen when Dean burst out of the bathroom, demanding to know who flushed all his condoms down the toilet and clogged the plumbing. He observes Cas give the girls Dean waltzes out of his solo motel room with a glare that would have probably smited them to ash back in his angel days.

No one has specifically told Sam that their now-human-angel is in love with Dean to the point of homicidal jealousy, but Sam figured it out by himself.

Because he’s the smart brother.

And, for the sake of the safety for all parties involved, Sam decides to intervene.

They’re at a bar, eating dinner. He attempts to break Cas out of his silent smouldering, whose eyes are fixated upon Dean’s hand on a busty brunette’s bare knee. “Hey, Cas,” he says. “Cas. Cas, eyes over here.” He pokes him in the arm. His friend blinks and stares at him.

“Oh. Yes, Sam?”

“I’m going to give you some advice, since you are new to being human and everything.” At Cas’s nod of agreement, Sam continues. “It has to do with wanting something, and getting what you want by doing something about it.”

He hopes that maybe this will spark Cas’s understanding. Based on the ex-angel’s blank face, it doesn’t.

Again, Sam is the smart brother here.

“Okay,” he begins, picking up between his fingers a butter pickle, a leaf of garnish, and a half-eaten french fry from Dean’s abandoned burger plate. “I’ll demonstrate. You’re the butter pickle.” Cas scrunches his nose and opens his mouth to protest. Sam stops him, holding up a hand. “I’m not saying you look like a butter pickle–this is an analogy. Anyway, what you really want is this half-eaten french fry. But,” he wiggles the garnish in the air, “then the garnish came and grabbed it, so then you couldn’t have it anymore.”

Cas narrows his eyes. “Why did it do that?”

“Because it wanted the french fry too, and it was faster than you.”

Cas considers this for a moment. Glares. Growls at the garnish and swats it out of Sam’s hand. They both watch it as it flops helplessly to the floor.

“Okay. That’s one reaction.” Sam patiently picks up another green chunk and places it gently next to the french fry. “Or, the less violent way, is to simply,” he places the butter pickle in between the garnish and the french fry, “talk to the french fry, and tell it how you feel. Then, because french fries and pickles taste better together than french fries and garnishes anyway, I’m sure that the french fry will understand and everything will work out.”

Sam watches his friend’s face as his eyes flicker between the three bits of food, head tilted in confusion. Sam could practically see the lightbulb above his head as Cas finally states, “I am the butter pickle. Dean is the french fry.”

“Yes!” Sam huffs, falling back into his chair.

Cas nods. Stands up, grabbing the lapels of his trenchcoat and adjusts it with a firm tug. Sam watches him walk over to the canoodling couple with a wide smile that slowly fades to a horrified expression as Cas grabs the brunette by the shoulder, pitching her to the side, and yanks a protesting Dean away from her and their drinks. 

Sam cringes as Cas clutches Dean by both shoulders and, instead of replying to his _”What the hell are you doing?!”_ s, firmly presses his mouth against his to shut him up. 

Sam shakes his head as he watches Dean, wide eyed, begin sputtering like a broken motor, forgetting how to speak proper English, as Cas calmly walks away.

Sam sighs. Stares at his food-versions of Dean and Cas. Well, no one can say he never tried.

He pops the french fry into his mouth and goes to settle the bill.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi to me on [tumblr](https://quiettewandering.tumblr.com). I take prompts and friends.


End file.
